


Sleepover

by Dimago



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Hanging Out, M/M, awkward first time sexual shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-22
Updated: 2010-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 23:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dimago/pseuds/Dimago
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave and John rarely get the opportunity to hang out face-to-face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepover

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nader](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nader/gifts).



> This takes a few liberties, and assumes that somehow Bro is still alive at the end of the game, and the world is pretty much restored to how it once was (and also that ornery kids who tasted awesome superpowers would deign to finish compulsory education).

John’s house was inconspicuous. It resided in a row of identical houses, in a winding labyrinth of streets only navigable to those familiar with the area. All the roads had friendly-foresty sounding names like “Briarwood” and “Chipmunk Lane.”

Dave crumpled up his printed Google maps directions once he confirmed the house number and snorted. It was a far cry from the hustle and bustle of the cuty, but not a bad place for a nerd like John to grow up. He pressed the doorbell and heard a resounding tinkle from inside the house. Seconds later heavy footsteps thumped down some stairs and barreled straight for the front door. John flung the door open so hard Dave was surprised it didn’t fly off the hinges.

Dave took a step back and looked John up and down rather blatantly. Time had worked its magic. Whereas Dave towered over John a few years prior, a growth spurt had closed that gap and Egbert was a only a few inches shorter. His shoulders were broader and he had a sturdier build than Dave without being chubby. A miracle, if the boy’s father was as passionate about baking as Dave heard.

John had maintained his style of dress and mannerisms. Huge glasses slightly askew, bootleg Slimer shirt worn with no sense of irony, hair ruffled and sticking up in all directions, smile showing off buck teeth that were currently being tamed by braces. John hadn’t changed much at all.

“Yo,” Dave tilted his head up in greeting. John jumped onto the porch and clasped Dave in a bear hug before the Knight of Time had a chance to duck or even raise his hands in defense. “Nng. Nice to see you too.”

John let go pounded Dave on the back a few times, openhanded. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show up!” Remembering his manners, he stepped aside to let the other boy in and close the door. “Then dad started shoving brownies and cookies and stuff in my face. He knows too many sweets make me break out, but he doesn’t care! We almost had another fight, but he probably thinks it’s just teenage drama.” Dave was thankful that his friend was as oblivious as ever and didn’t notice the blush staining his cheekbones. Even John’s grabbiness remained unchanged by the forces of puberty and high school.

They trekked through the living room and up stairs. Dave appreciated the roominess of the house, although the choice in fine art (garishly colored pictures of clowns) needed improvement. He dumped his overstuffed bookbag in John’s room.

“Do you need to change or take a shower or something?”

“Nah,” Dave shrugged. Compared to tromping around LOHAC in a felt suit, a trip from Texas to Washington was a piece of cake. “I can do that later on. What do you do for fun around here, bake pastries and read Nicolas Cage fanfiction?”

John grimaced and turned to leave the room before he went into a rant about Betty Crocker and how she got her batterwitch hands in everything. Dave followed; half listening and grunting noncomittal answers at appropriate moments.

“And don’t even get me started on Gushers!” the Heir of Breath finished dramatically. He flopped onto the couch and grabbed blindly for the remote. Dave sat next to him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Okay, I won’t. Shut up and find something to watch.”

The two spent the next few hours flipping through channels. True to form, there was nothing interesting playing on any of the 500 channels they filtered through. Anything that did have the misfortune to be playing was subject to mocking comments. John perked up when a familiar figure in a tattered white tank top appeared on screen. Dave rolled his eyes wrestled the remote from his friend. He would never be in the mood for Con Air, no matter how much John stuck his bottom lip out and tried to make his eyes water mournfully.

Eventually, delightful smells started to waft from the kitchen. Neither boy had paid much attention to the sounds of cooking, but Mr. Egbert had been busy. Dave’s stomach rumbled even as he crossed his arms and slunk further into a disaffected “cool guy” pose. John got up and went to the kitchen briefly, then stood by the door and waved Dave in.

Dinner passed without much commotion. Mr. Egbert had prepared steaming plates of porkchops, macaroni and cheese, and green pees. Strider was never one for vegetables, although he would not admit to having such childish preferences, but he wolfed down everything else on his plate. Bro was an excellent cook, even if his meals were a bit plainer, but once Dave had gotten old enough to go down to the convenience store and buy burritos he hadn’t cooked much.

Dave was on his second helping of mac and cheese when he felt something fuzzy and warm prod his leg. He kept his poker face up and kicked back slightly harder. John jumped a little. His face broke out into a little grin that could only be described as “aderpable” and he returned the assault while scooping a generous helping of pees into his mouth.

They continued their game until Dave cut off the elder Egbert. “John,” he said blandly, “are you seriously playing footsie with me?”

“Nope. Sorry, was just stretching my legs.” John blushed a little at being called out, but recovered quickly.  He gave Dave another smile and finally left his damn leg alone. Mr. Egbert just raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth at the two.

\---

No visit was complete without co-op games.

“Wait, seriously?” Dave thumbed through the cases and noticed a few that looked familiar. “I was hoping you had expanded your catalog beyond _Kirby’s Epic Yarn_ and _Donkey Kong Country Returns_.” He remembered the immense clusterfuck of trying to play those games with John years ago. Many things happened. A lot of yelling and harsh jabs were had all around.

“Those games are awesome and sometimes I question your tastes. But I guess this would appeal to you.”

Dave inspected the cover. _Monster Hunter_? This he could play.

Of course, Dave was obnoxiously good at the game. John pouted every time he missed or didn’t dodge properly or tried to consume a potion and got knocked on his ass.

“Hang out with me enough and maybe my skills will rub off on you,” Dave smirked.

“I still kick your ass at Kirby,” John shot back.

\---

After the food and fun came a shower. Both boys thanked Mr. Egbert for the meal and bid him goodnight. They retreated to John’s room, and John nudged the door closed.

“Where am I sleeping? The floor?”

“Bed’s fine,” John said. He eyed Dave briefly. “if you’re okay with that.”

Dave shrugged and face planted onto the bed. It was soft and the sheets smelled as though they were freshly laundered. The bed dipped under John’s weight and he turned his head to glance at his best friend.

“Hey Dave, what are you doing after graduation? It’s a few months away, you know.”

“Haven’t really thought of it.” Dave shrugged.

John attempted to look nonchalant. “Thought about college? I mean, I’ve thought about college. I sent in some applications. Just a few, because dad and all my teachers were breathing down my neck about it. I was thinking it would be cool if we went to the same place.”

Dave was silent for a moment while he thought.

“You aren’t talking about… clown school, are you?” He was struck immediately with a flying pillow.

“NO. Why is that even… no.” John sulked and pretended to nurse the severe wounds to his ego. A clown school? Please. He had even replaced all his vandalized posters to remove all traces of jesterdom from his walls. Secretly he kept them folded neatly in the closet.

Dave sat up and tossed the pillow back. They sat shoulder to shoulder for a moment in silence.

“Well, as long as it’s not a freaking school for pranksters. I was planning on becoming some kind of awesome hiphop vagrant and traveling the countryside, starting sick fires for cash. But I guess being in walking distance of everyone would be cool.”

John tensed beside him.

“…You have invited Rose and Jade, right?” John deflated and looked a little guilty. Busted.

“Of course I talked to them about it, but it was kind of, um, I maybe didn’t directly invite them? I mean, they’re part of the extremely tiny group of people I can really call friends. And it would be awesome if we all spent our young adulthood hanging out in a dorm. Like Friends!” He paused. Now or never. “But I was kind of maybe propositioning you with a different intent?”

John felt like freaking out and doing a backflip out the window. Propositioning was not the word he wanted to use. Dave was staring at him. Strider’s lips and eyebrows betrayed no particular emotion.

“John. I do believe you’re trying to court me.” John’s face flushed. “You are, right?” John couldn’t find the words to answer him, so he nodded. The mattress squeaked as Dave tipped toward him.

Their first kiss was somewhat clumsy. Their glasses clanked together loudly, and John flinched backwards skittishly at the noise. Dave moved John’s rectangular frames up to his forehead, titled his head to the side, and leaned in. Their lips slid into position against each other like puzzle pieces.

Dave pulled back; taking in John’s flushed face with a sense of satisfaction.

“How was it?”

“It was…” John licked his lips and readjusted his glasses. “not terrible?” Dave snorted.

“You’re such a dork, man. I’ll have you know that women and men alike would despair at being denied a chance to make out with me. For a while I had a problem with stalkers offing themselves after I turned down their tributes of roofie-laced chocolates.”

John rolled his eyes, swiped Dave’s glasses, and boldly reinitiated the kiss. Dave’s cool guy tangent was cut off with an embarrassing squawk. John took a page from the numerous romantic kisses littering his collection of favorite iconic movies and deepened the kiss, prodding Dave’s mouth questioningly with his tongue. Dave hummed and let him in, although he wasn’t eager to play second fiddle to John. The blonde boy slowly trailed one hand up John’s belly and chest

“How about _that_?”  John asked, a smug grin on his face. Dave rolled his eyes, placed on hand on his forehead and fanned his face with the other.

“Why, John, I do believe you are giving little ol’ me the vapors,” he drawled in a lilting Southern accent, letting his eyelashes flutter to appropriately complete the act.

John laughed. “Good, I was trying to do that!”

“Great. Awards all around. Can I have my shades back now?” Dave’s hand jutted out all impudently.

“What shades?” John held up both hands, palms up. They were empty. Dave pushed John first one way, then the other to see if he hid the sunglasses in plain sight on the bed.

“Very funny, give them back.”

“Why? I think your eyes are pretty. You don’t have to hide them, if that’s why you always wear sunglasses.”

Dave frowned a little. “Okay, one, please never use that word to describe any facet of me again. I am cool, or awesome, or godly. Not _pretty_.” He paused for a breath. “Two, I am not hiding behind my shades. Not in front of you, at least. They are a symbol of our everlasting bond as the best bros to ever exist and I just don’t like not having them.”

John blinked. He lowered his arms and the Stiller shades tumbled out of his right sleeve. Dave collected them with a soft “thanks.” He opened them, closed them again and placed them on a pillow. John smiled and stared right into Dave’s eyes, completely unabashed. Dave tried to meet his gaze, but suddenly felt… bashful? Reticent? Shy? None of these words really described it, but he felt like he wanted John to stop looking and to never look away all at once. It was an uncomfortable and new feeling.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” Dave asked, sliding one hand along John’s thigh soothingly. John could only nod, not quite trusting his voice at the moment. His breath hitched when Dave cupped his crotch and pressed lightly, confirming that his decision to keep his mouth shut was the correct one. Dave scooted so that John and he were facing one another directly, and his fingers toyed with the elastic waistband. “You sure?” He noticed John was shivering a little.

John said quietly, “Please.”

Dave dipped his hand into John’s pants and encircled his erection. It was warm in his hand, and he rubbed his thumb along the side of it experimentally. John bit his lip and canted his hips up a little. It was an encouraging gesture, but he still seemed a little wound up. Dave leaned forward and nibbled lightly at John’s neck.

“I’m kind of surprised you said something first,” he whispered against John’s skin, and began to stroke him firmly. John managed to look confused through his haze of pleasure. “I’ve… liked you for a while, dude. And I always thought I would make the first move, but you beat me again.” He kissed below John’s chin, where he could feel the other boy’s pulse race.

John’s eyes were nearly closed, and his legs stretched out slowly one after the other like a stretching cat. His adam’s apple bobbed and he let out a throaty noise.

“D-Dave…”

Dave rubbed the flat of his thumb against the tip of John’s cock. “Yes?”

“I love you.”

Dave felt the return of the odd feelings. Now they weren’t quite uncomfortable. Not anymore. It was a warm sensation, with perhaps a smidgen of butterflies in his belly.

“I know I’ve got magic hands,” he tried to joke.

John cut him off, “I mean it. I love you.” His cloudy blue eyes met Dave’s. Dave squirmed and squeezed John a little roughly. This just dragged a pleased gasp from the other boy’s mouth, however. He felt like John could read him like a book. He wanted to put his shades back on, but realized he had already said and done too much to resort to hiding behind security blankets.

“I love you, too,” he said, and meant it.

John brought their lips together in another bold kiss and pushed against Dave’s shoulders. Dave let John ease him onto his back, and tried not to look too eager about John’s wandering hands. When John hesitantly ran his fingers along Dave’s shaft in a butterfly-soft touch, Dave let out a huff of air in the other boy’s ear.  John flinched and grinned at the same time, and fondled Dave with a bit more courage.

He was a bit gentler where Dave would have been direct, and apparently enjoyed light touches. All the same, Dave felt himself arching into the touch. John’s body froze and he grasped Dave’s hand firmly.

John backed off for a moment to kick off his pajama bottoms then tugged down Dave’s boxers. He straddled the blonde boy and bumped their cocks together, unsurely rubbing their hips together. Dave thought that was nice enough. Then John wrapped one hand around both their erections, applying more direct pressure.

“Is this okay?” he whispered.

Dave was too busy breathing heavily to respond immediately. “That’s fan-fucking-tastic,” he groaned. John steadied himself over Dave’s body with one arm and resumed rubbing in earnest. He was rhythmic and steady at first. As his orgasm neared again he became a bit more frantic, humping against Dave with urgency. John’s body froze again and he let forth a worryingly kittenish cry as he spilled cum on Dave’s shirt.

Not too lost pleasure to accommodate his friend, he tried to resume rubbing as the euphoric waves receded. He sped up, smearing fluids everywhere. Dave felt his toes curl and he slammed his hips up once, twice, and was gone as well.

They merely watched one another in the afterglow. Then the harsh realities of the world set in.

“Oh. Ew. I’ll get something to clean this up. And, uh… another shirt. Don’t move.” John slid slothfully off his best friend and he disappeared tucked himself back into his pajamas, stains be damned, and disappeared down the hall. Dave was content to relax and be left to his thoughts for the moment, and he tried his best not to move to avoid displacing the mess of cooling spunk on his midsection.

John returned and wiped the worst of the mess off Dave’s shirt, but wussed out when it came to his penis. Dave accepted the washcloth, grateful to be rid of what was rapidly developing into a sticky mess. They changed clothes again and settled back into bed.

1:24 glowed on the digital clock’s face in green lucent numbers. Dave yawned, then John yawned, then Dave yawned again.

“A vicious cycle, this yawning,” Dave commented absently. Typically he was used to staying up all hours of the night, but traveling and humping your friend… boyfriend?  took a lot out of a person. “If I go to bed now you’re not going to spend the whole night looming over my prone form while breathing heavily, are you?”

“Maybe.” John rolled out of bed and hit the light switch. The moonbeams streaming in through his window guided him back to the bed. He tried to get comfortable while Dave tossed the blanket haphazardly over both of them. A calm quietness set over the room. For all of five minutes.

“Dave, you awake?” John asked softly. Dave mumbled an affirmation. He felt John’s hand fumble around on the mattress for a moment before the other boy’s fingers looped around his. “Thanks for coming. Here, I mean.”

Strider smiled widely and sincerely. The muscles in his face, so unused to being moved out of a neutral position, protested at this new development. He rolled over and threw his other arm over John, their hands clasped between them, and snuggled.


End file.
